A review by fictionfan
The Golden House by Salman Rushdie

Did not finish book.

Nope! 30% and I can't bear to read any more. Plotless (so far), stuffed so full of references to art, culture, religion and mythology there's no room left for humanity or empathy. Intellect without soul, and sadly largely without wit or charm either, unlike his last book. And oh, I'm weary, weary, weary of the liberal world of high literature's current obsession with gender identity. I think this is the third major new literary book in a row I've read (or abandoned) that focuses on transgenderism - The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, Days Without End, now this - 4 if you count Scott Turow as literary, which I've sometimes been known to do. Literature has become as trend-ridden and cliché-filled as pulp fiction. Does a memo go round each January telling them which subject is compulsory for the year? If so, I vote that next year it's something wider, like, let's say, life, the universe and everything - the way it used to be before one had to prove one's liberal credentials everytime one speaks or writes...